


Jigen: Reloaded

by clervinger



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Explicit Language, Jigen is repressed, Lupin gets shot, M/M, Werewolf Lupin - Freeform, jigen is trans but don't worry about it, lil bit of (eventually) mutual pining, there are some cuss words, there's some shooting and blood drinking and murder but nothing CRAZY, touch of angst, vampire jigen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clervinger/pseuds/clervinger
Summary: No one has known about Jigen for over 200 years, but after a heist goes bad and Lupin gets hurt things must come to light.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	1. Lupin gets hit

This was supposed to be a simple, straight forward job. “Supposed to” being the operative word. So far between the lasers in the hallway, the land mines in the garden, and now this small army of guards in the basement, this museum heist was turning out to be a lot more like robbing an army base then what Jigen would’ve liked for his Saturday evening. Lupin on the other hand, was absolutely ecstatic about their current predicament, the more danger that got heaped on them, the worse the odds got, the more wild he could become. Their current situation: pinned down under fire behind some mysteriously sturdy and easy to animate boxes had left Lupin in rare form. His eyes gleamed with hunger for their treasure and the air was rife with bullets and his unwavering confidence. Jigen on the other hand was more of a realist who was really running out of bullets. He hadn’t missed a single shot but there seemed to be an endless supply of guards and he had only a finite supply of ammo. Their crawl into this hell hole had left Jigen with only his faithful combat magnum and nothing else, while Lupin was full of enough tricks and meat to cover the both of them. The basement was dim and dusty but they didn’t mind. Over Jigen’s head hung the first rule of fire fights “don't get pinned” and he knew that they would soon have to obey said rule or they’d risk leaving as corpses instead of thieves. Some stupid golden statue was SOMEWHERE in this junk heap and the only way out was to find it before a bullet found them. 

POP POP POP!

The neat discharges of an automatic pistol sailed in from 3 o’clock, and from Jigen’s mental shot-count there coulda been a lot more than just that, but they seemed to be taking turns- possibly because shooting the art was a big no-no. Jigen turned to share a look with Lupin, and together they came to the same conclusion: it was time to run. Lupin wasn’t a gun-guy like Jigen but he wasn’t an idiot either “RUN!!” had pretty much been the only thought screaming through his mind from the second the alarm got tripped (seriously, if you use a secondary password fuck you, thieves everywhere have their heists ruined by assholes like you everyday so please, be considerate and #thinkofthethieves). Rotating away from Jigen he lowered into a sprinter’s stance, the soles of his dress shoes straining against his arches as he coiled. For once it was time for Lupin to listen to his head instead of his heart. One last check behind to see Jigen’s waiting smile from under the brim of his hat and that was everything. POP POP POP! went the starting pistol and they were off. Slapping his hands against the concrete as he peeled out, Lupin stayed arms low, and ass high as he cut over to the crate containing the statue. With Jigen at his heels occasionally turning back to crack off a shot or two of cover fire. Lupin was fast but Jigen never had trouble keeping up. They had just a few more feet out in the open before hitting the desired crate. One minute Lupin is watching the crate, the pavement cracking under his shoes and the next he’s cracking against the pavement and watching the ceiling, his right side screaming. “Fuck.” would’ve summed up the situation perfectly but he was rated PG-13 so he settled for a pained groan instead. The last thing he sees before blacking out is Jigen’s faces (yes plural) swimming into view above him.

Lupin was hit. 

That’s what Jigen knew for sure, somewhere in Lupin, there was a naughty little bullet causing problems. He slid in next to him taking a closer look at the situation. The good news being: he’s alive and the bad news, (aside from the whole “got shot” thing) being he’s dazed. Jigen could see the blood just barely starting to soak through the green of Lupin’s blazer. The wound seemed to be on the lower right somewhere near the hip. Pits to Elbows with a thin trail of red to match Jigen drags Lupin into cover. Six shots had always seemed like plenty to Jigen but now he wasn’t so sure. He’d posted Lupin up against their new crate and turned to deal with some goons that had moved in a bit too close for comfort. Fortunately, the baddies were standing directly next to a large wiry rolling shelf with wimpy little plastic casters. Jigen aimed one shot at those and the whole thing came tumbling down, taking them out. He had not always been so creative though, there was a time in his life before he met Lupin where he would’ve just shot the men and not bothered with the shelf they stood next to, but his partner was a funny guy who never shot anybody if he could help it. At first Jigen only begrudgingly obliged to the “no kill” rule but, he soon found that solving issues in other ways was not only more rewarding but also more difficult. People are easy, point at something juicy and pull the trigger, situations though, require consideration, smarts. Smarts that Jigen didn’t often see in others in his line of work but that Lupin had plenty of. He had come to by now and Jigen could see the gears turning furiously in his mind as he thought of a way out for them.

Lupin’s left hand was hidden in the stained green fabric of his jacket, clutching at his wound. Sharp teeth clenched in his mouth too snuggly to be considered human. He was curled over, squashing down to duck. Blood in one hand, Walther in the other, hackles raised. Jigen had seen this picture plenty of times before, Lupin injured, the two of them on the ropes with seemingly no hope for escape when suddenly Lupin makes it work and they get away. Maybe Jigen didn’t have confidence in their situation but his confidence in Lupin was unwavering, all he had to do was hold up his half of the deal as the faithful crack shot partner and Lupin would make the other shoe drop as the mastermind criminal behind their plans. As far as Jigen was concerned all he had to do was hold out a little longer and they’d both be fine. Then they could limp home, lick their wounds, check for new scars, watch their handiwork get picked apart on the news by a certain inspector and start the cycle anew with some other job, in some other place. 

Lupin had swallowed a bullet magnet when he was younger and had been building an immunity to the things, one shot to the gut at a time, ever since. But this… Jigen had never seen Lupin look like this. His face was a mask of seriousness, there was no longer any joy in his eyes, there were no jokes, no banter, no quips. This Lupin was a complete stranger compared to the one Jigen knew and it scared him. For Lupin to be acting like this they must’ve really been in a bad way. Breaking his stare Jigen fruitlessly patted himself down again for the third time looking for any spare bullets that he had missed but he (unsurprisingly) came up empty. Whatever he had left in the chamber was what he had left for the rest of the night. Unfortunately great mathematicians from around the world had come together to conclude that this number was “not much”. Fucked was more and more becoming the only suitable word applicable to their situation. Keeping his head(and hat) down Jigen scanned the scene around them searching for anything that could help, when suddenly the faint and familiar scent of Lupin bleeding out became the overpowering aroma of heavy blood loss. Jigen snaps his head over and his heart hits his shoes. A lot more red was slathered on Lupin’s green blazer now. This was no longer just another difficult job, in fact Jigen has never seen Lupin so... injured before. His once clenched hand now lay limply in his lap, his Walther lay abandoned by his side, his head, earlier upright and alert now lolled uselessly to one side. For the first time, in a very long time, Jigen started to see red. Lupin’s no kill rule wasn’t going to matter if there was no Lupin around to uphold it. They had to leave. Now. Playtime was over. Jigen was out of ammo and Lupin was out of time. It was a good thing his fangs still worked. Inside his mouth he could feel the sharp points of them now, his anger forcing them into place. His heart, back from it’s trip to his shoes, went still as he looked at his partner slumped on the floor. The pop pop pop of enemy fire still shrouded them but Jigen could barely hear it as he carefully removed his hat and laid it over Lupin’s head. It was time to get to work, dirty work.


	2. Jigen cleans up

There was no way that this was going to be easy, as Jigen turned away from Lupin that much became clear. There were enemies on all sides and if he was going to get anything done Jigen was going to have to make himself a more important target than the (currently) helpless Lupin. He was already loose but he stretched his arms out in front just for show and yawned as he cracked his neck, leaving his fangs on full display. "Look at me" he thought "Look only at Me". The guards waited while he did this. It was obvious who had the upper hand, as Jigen and Lupin were completely surrounded, the single level of crates they had been hiding behind offering almost no cover at all. Holding their fire was a courtesy the guards offered Jigen as they allowed him to have his stretch, and say his final words before being wiped out. They were in for a surprise though, thought Jigen, as his lips lifted from his teeth in a snarling smile. He had already figured who was closest to him, a skill that was second nature to a marksman, and in his mind his order of attack was set.

It felt strange getting ready to fight without the weight of a weapon in his hand but his gun was empty so it was his turn to be the weapon. One minute Jigen was standing there, the next he was sprinting headlong towards 3 o'clock, where some greenhorn was standing too close for the machine gun he was carrying. What those guns lacked in accuracy and range, they made up for in rate of fire and the thick magazines that hung from their frames. Jigen bolted, snaking around as the guards started shooting, the far spread of their fire missing him as the shots tossed bits of the concrete floor into the air. Jigen's mark seemed paralyzed with fear as he came running at them, the man not even getting a chance to aim his weapon before Jigen arrived.

His hands got there first, grabbing onto the gun and ripping it away. One hand keeping an iorn grip on the weapon while the other one pushed its owner to the ground, Jigen following on his knees. Now that he was staying still bullets were finding him without issue, digging in and out of him in fiery bursts of pain. Pinning the guard down with his legs on either side, he bends in and bites down, his fangs tearing through the veins and piercing the vital arteries beneath. Immediately the blood begins gushing into his mouth, and Jigen, who had been losing a lot of his own at this point starts to drink it. Even as the attacks continue he heals, the fresh blood revitalizing him with every sip as he takes his first victim of the night. Now topped off, Jigen raises his stolen gun and returns fire. There was no point aiming with a weapon like this, so he holds it at chest level and turns letting the recoil from each shot push against him in quick succession. It would be impossible for him to drain all of these guys individually (not that he even wanted to) so he’s going to need to use their guns against them to thin their ranks. 

He falls into a pattern as the fight rages on, sprinting to the closest guard, tearing in with his teeth and stealing their gun, then returning fire until running out of ammo before moving on. Though crude, this method is horrifically effective, and within minutes the guards’ numbers are halved, then quartered as Jigen works his way through the crowd.   
Red slicks the floor and is splattered across the oil cloths covering the whatevers that are being stored down here. Despite his capacity for violence, Jigen finds the carnage revolting, and he knows that if he had any other options for how to get out of this alive, he would take them; but as it stands its bite or be beaten. While Jigen’s body fights, his heart sinks. It had been a long time since he’d been careless enough to have to do something like this. He had been beginning to think he’d finally escaped that part of his life, that part of himself, but apparently he was mistaken. And now he was here, trapped like a rat, being shot full of holes as he fought for not only his life, but Lupin’s as well. 

Jigen’s clothes and body were ruined. The pain, originally clouded by his wealth of adrenaline, was now screaming closer. No one but him and Lupin were left as he picked his way over the bodies and back to his partner, his boots squelching in the gore as he walked. Absentmindedly, he looked down at his chest. Uhg, yep. He Peeled his once powder blue shirt away and saw that his torso was doing a fine impersonation of swiss cheese, that is, if swiss cheese was disgusting and had bits of shattered bone and guts hanging in it. Well, now that he thought about it actually, Illinois swiss cheese was like that, he paused to shiver at the thought of Illinois swiss cheese before getting back to the matter at hand. Nothing came without a price and the price for taking this much damage was that now he’d have to eat. He hated eating. Making a face he picked up his... most intact victim and had a bite. 

Blood for blood, that was the agreement, he could lose it all as long as he stole it back later from somebody else. He was already a thief for other things but he knew in his heart- old as it was, that stealing some rich fuck’s 45th diamond was a far cry from what he was doing right now. At first it just leaked out again through the holes in his ruined stomach, but soon he could feel it take, The bullets jingled as they fell to the ground, pushed out by fresh skin, Jigen gave it a pat to check that he was better and then turned to the greater issue at hand: Lupin. 

His partner was still slumped up against the crate where he’d been left, Jigen’s hat still protecting his eyes from the massacre. Lupin was also spattered with blood, but unlike (most of) what Jigen was covered in this was Lupin’s own. Jigen uselessly wiped his filthy hand on his filthy trousers before holding it in front of Lupin’s mouth, he held his breath and waited for Lupin’s. A faint exhale passed his palm, and his heart hitched. Lupin was still breathing, now they just had to get back to safety and everything would be OK. Despite the mess that Jigen had made around them Lupin was left untouched. This wasn’t intentional, between the chin and the collarbone Jigen tended to lose track of things, but it made him feel better, like he hadn’t lost as much control as he initially thought.

One last thing, carefully he stepped around an unconscious Lupin to the wooden crate they had taken cover behind and dug his hands into the sides, he edged the toe of his boot onto the lip of the bottom of the box and ripped. The wood crackled its protest but gave in, opening up to reveal a thick bed of packing peanuts and some expensive golden statue that Jigen didn’t care for sitting on top. He’d much rather just scoop Lupin up into his arms and leave this failed heist behind but Jigen knew Lupin, and he knew that the thief would recover faster with treasure in hand. Lupin was unconscious, and his chest rose and fell in steady, soft breaths. His jacket was ruined, but the bleeding had seemingly abandoned gushing out in favor of just leaking. Jigen took his hat back, and in exchange gave Lupin the statue to “hold” before gently lifting him in a bridal carry, the statue resting on Lupin’s stomach as Lupin rested on Jigen. Together, they made the long walk back to the Fiat. The museum was dark and abandoned as Jigen scaled the steps out into the night. Thankfully no one had called the cops(despite it all) and once he had completed the difficult maneuver of opening the passenger door with Lupin still in his arms the rest was easy. 

“Easy didn’t necessarily mean pleasant though,” thought Jigen, as he reached over Lupin belting him into the passenger side. Leaning in close, he smells the pungent aroma of dried blood coming from his partner and he nearly passes out. After rising up and away from the stench he takes a long look at Lupin, who always seemed one step ahead of the game, Lupin, who always bounced back, Lupin, who he could depend on to survive unlike any other mortal he had ever known. Taking a deep breath he looks down at himself, filthy, and also covered with blood, his own and others. His suit would have to be burned, vampire blood was hazardous waste as far as Jigen was concerned and it’d be best to not get it anywhere. 

He circles to the front of the Fiat and pops the hood of the trunk, within is stored a change of clothes among other things. Jigen slides his revolver out of his belt, sets it in the trunk then gets to work peeling off his garments, first the jacket, then his tie, he keeps the clip in his mouth like a cigarette for safe keeping while he takes his dress shirt off and kicks away his shoes, stripping down to just his briefs. Digging in the trunk he manages to find a plastic bag, a bottle of water and an old rag. He wets the rag and starts scrubbing, first his face and beard, then his chest and stomach. As the blood is washed away he gets a good look at his scars. He could heal from just about anything, but not without proof. There was a whole catalogue of new ones, to go with his familiar set of two lines, one for each side nestled right under his pecs. The new scars were pink, and freshly healed while the older ones sat with a silvery gleam on his skin, the marks breaking up his chest hair. Well, that was about as clean as things were going to get with his current facilities. Jigen dumped his ruined clothes and the rag into the plastic bag, knotting it at the top before tossing it back into the trunk. He slipped into the fresh clothes, the same powder blue undershirt and dark suit as what he had just thrown away, holstered his gun and clipped his tie back down before folding into the Fiat next to Lupin. Inside it still smelled like blood. He lit a cigarette to mask the scent and turned the key in the ignition.


End file.
